


Bad Nights

by blitzturtles



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 13:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19274365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blitzturtles/pseuds/blitzturtles
Summary: There are nights when he feels like putting his hands over his ears and screaming until his throat is raw and his voice hoarse. He knows it won’t make a difference. It won’t make them stop. He knows. He’s tried.





	Bad Nights

There are nights when he feels like putting his hands over his ears and screaming until his throat is raw and his voice hoarse. He knows it won’t make a difference. It won’t make  _ them  _ stop. He knows. He’s tried.

Some nights, it’s like competing against a jet engine, only he isn’t just standing next to the plane, it’s inside his head. He doesn’t understand why they always have to yell. He can’t make out the words when they’re all going at once. They’re nothing more than sound, and all he can do is scratch at his skin until the itch isn’t so bad… if only because it’s given way to pain instead. 

Tonight, like many others, he contemplates the idea of joining them. He reminisces in his own misery. Recalls every instance that he’s made himself out to be more trouble than help. He knows his bad outweighs his good so many times over that he won’t ever see anything other than red. 

His skin is on fire, yet his chewed up nails grant him no mercy. They have a mind of their own now. With a focus of keeping him locked in this personal hell. 

Just as he thinks he won’t be able to find relief, calloused hands find his. The grip is firm. Enough to keep him from struggling too hard. He  _ needs _ the pain. It’s the only thing that might be grounding him right now, but the pressure is as relentless as the voices.

“You’re going to upset Ben,” a familiar voice whispers.

Klaus snorts because he already  _ has _ . All he ever does is upset. Inconvenience. Annoy. Taint.  _ Ruin _ . 

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, but he’s not sorry for what he’s doing to Ben now. He’s sorry that Ben’s stuck with him in the first place. 

“That’s…” Diego goes quiet for a moment. Thinking. Probably overthinking. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Klaus whispers. 

There’s the exterior silence that Klaus wishes reflected what goes on in his head at any given moment. He can’t imagine what it must actually be like. Dissociation, maybe. He’s heard silences can be comfortable, but he doesn’t think he believes it.

Diego shifts his hold so that he’s pulling Klaus against his chest, arms crossing over Klaus to keep him from scratching. The pressure is nice and awful all at once. Klaus wants to kick and scream until he lets go. Maybe until he leaves. Then he won’t have to feel guilty about what he does to himself, but Diego’s voice fills the air again. This time it’s so quiet Klaus has to focus to make sense of the words. It doesn’t help that  _ they _ keep right on hollering, but he knows the song. Recognizes it as one Grace use to sing to them. Mostly Diego, though, not infrequently, she would sing it for Klaus as well. 

Klaus closes his eyes and tries to imagine it. Diego, small and quiet, listening so intently to their mom’s voice, hanging on every word like he might never hear another. Klaus guesses that’s what happens when a kid gets cut off from the rest of the speaking world. He remembers feeling jealous once. Maybe he still is, though he knows it’s wrong. 

He sags into Diego’s grip eventually. The fight is gone. He doesn’t have the energy to hurt himself anymore, and he certainly isn’t at risk of going out and doing anything stupid. All he wants to do is sleep. 

Diego moves them until they’re both lying back against the wall. It can’t be comfortable for him, but he doesn’t stop singing. Instead, he disentangles one arm enough that he can run his fingers through Klaus’ hair with nails that graze at his scalp gently.

The darkness that follows is far from unpleasant, and he rests more easily knowing that Diego is there to drown the voices out if need be.


End file.
